Jackal Among Snakes

Galamon rode his horse onwards, leaning on its head. He felt the exposed flesh on his torso burn, and now that the archers had perished and deprived him of distraction, he could feel the pain of the sunlight. He tried to focus on the pain to drive away the bestial curse of vampirism swirling through his blood. He kept his eyes fixed on the wooden palisades ahead. It was not much longer before his task would be finished.

When he came near, he jumped from the horse. It neighed in pain, and the sheer force toppled the creature to the ground. Galamon cleared the wooden stakes easily, crashing amidst some jars full of water. He heard screams from the houses beside him—they sounded loud, so sharp were his senses. He crawled away from the sunlight like a deranged spider, retreating further into the shadows.

He could smell blood all around him. The smell of the ocean wind carried it. He could smell it seeping into the wooden planks at the docks, could smell it in the earth, the grass… he kept his hand on his neck, squeezing tightly. The world seemed tinted red. Galamon kept to the shadows, waiting until the beast realized it was caged; that he owned it, not the other way around.

He heard rushed footfalls heading towards him, and with it, a scent of blood. He heard the heartbeat—frantic, fast, driven by fear and excitement.

“Galamon,” a voice called out. “Hot damn. I knew you could do it.”

It’s calling for me, Galamon noticed. The heartbeat is calling for me.

“Listen. I know that you just finished with that one thing, but I don't have time to mince words. Where are you? Damned dark back here. Could you come out?”

It wants me to come out. It’s not afraid of what might happen.

Galamon lunged forward towards the welcoming voice, throwing his helmet aside. He grasped the prey and fell on it. His sharp teeth sunk into something hot, and he drank. It tasted sweet—like a cup of water after traversing a desert, or a piece of meat after a long hunt. This was the best feeling, Galamon supposed.

His prey struggled with weak, vain hits at his side, pushing and struggling. Galamon did not care. He held on tightly, enjoying the blood. This seemed especially pure and powerful—a mages’ blood, he could tell. It had a faint tinge to it—magic in the blood.

“Think…” the voice whispered, struggling against Galamon.

Think of what? Galamon pondered.

“Would your family… want this?”

Galamon’s mind spun, and his world of red shattered. He looked down and saw his brother, battered and broken, bleeding from the neck. The image slowly faded, and Argrave’s face replaced his brother’s.

Galamon tossed Argrave away and leapt back, in panic. He slammed his back against the house’s wall. Argrave crawled away, holding his still-bleeding neck.

“By Veid… I-I…” Galamon gingerly reached forward. Argrave stared at him with hollow gray eyes.

#####

Argrave watched Galamon. The unshakable elf was, for the first time Argrave had ever seen, panicking. He tried to think of something witty to say, but his neck stung, and his brain felt like it had a heavy fog over it. Lethargy threatened to consume him, his breathing was too fast, and he felt dreadfully weak. He blinked and bit his lips, knowing that sleeping here might mean his death.

Galamon rushed forward, reaching into Argrave’s satchel. He pulled free a stamina potion, and then held it to Argrave’s lips with trembling fingers. Argrave caught it with his teeth and tilted his head back. It did not make the pain diminish, nor stop the bleeding, but it did allow him to regain his focus.

Argrave used the last of his magic to cast healing magic, sealing the wound. Galamon collapsed backwards, staring at Argrave with an all-too-complicated expression. Panic, fear, guilt, anger… it was a veritable salad of regret.

voice. “I knew you were dissatisfied, but you proved

to… the

know,” said Argrave.

sat there, mouth agape. Those fangs of his looked very ominous now that they had

for the donor.” Argrave

stood, trying to help Argrave but hesitant to approach. It was very evident

to tell you you’re needed. Take your Ebonice axe, head to the gate.

“But you need

let out a low, dry laugh. “But seriously… go. The tomb guardians will kill us all if you don’t. Anneliese will explain things. Look for the beautiful

sorry. I never… my

blood I so graciously donated. You could probably use it better than me right now, anyway.” Argrave laid his head against

it, and then ran to the gate as Argrave

they’re wild animals, just like

with a grunt. His legs felt as weak as clouds, as though they could fail at any minute and send him crashing back to the ground. If I hadn’t been able to remember that Galamon’s family was the only

other, Argrave walked forward, arm held against the side of the wall for support. His breaths were quick and rapid, and he could feel his heart struggling. He passed the corner of the house and fell against a barrel, holding himself up shakily. Ahead, the tomb

doing it wrong. He’s in line of sight. He’s going

away from the barrel and go to them, but the barrel moved and he stumbled, collapsing onto the grass.

#####

elves butcher those men made of metal. The snow elf commander refused to allow them to participate, citing that they were not as

horse. The wizard Argrave had ridden it into here, assumed the position of an advisor abruptly using the Mark of Monticci, and then enacted this ‘cooperation’ with the snow elves. The man had been willing to risk life and limb, so Ryles did not question that

Symon,” Ryles said quietly, staring

“Yes, Commander Ryles?”

towards the horse. “Take command. I am going

“What, sir? Why?”

off. Though the battle has been postponed,

towards the gate opposite where they were doing battle with the metal creatures. He rode away, passing

is so close with the elves… perhaps it is not a coincidence. It is my duty to take this matter to the Duke, as much as I

#####

up!” a

blinked open his eyes. He was

have to get ready for school,” someone

to school,” Argrave answered. “I’m a

acting like a child,” the voice chided again.

in the school courtyard. He had to go to gym class. He ran around, the environment shifting around him. Everyone was staring at him. He realized he was

as a stadium. The bleachers were made of stone. Argrave remembered he had to get something from the supply closet. He opened the door to the supply closet

They turned their head. Their eyes had melted